onceandfutureprat | spam for arya

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spam for arya

[Arthur would very much like to spend all of his time in his room after the flood but he can't do that entirely since someone has to let Arya out of zero and he's the most responsible for her. He won't take any blame for the fact that she's there, he wasn't that petty king that put here there, but he is her Warden and he's not going to pass this off onto Merlin to do.

So he makes his way down there, and stands in front of her cell for a moment.]

Are you going to kick me?

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[She had not been crying. She wouldn't let herself, past the tear or two that surprised her when the flood ended. (More than two, but that's a secret she'll keep between herself and the blanket she'd muffled herself with.) She'd been swinging between upset and angry and - worse - listless since coming back to herself.

It felt like she did after the Twins, when she'd ridden on Sandor Clegane's horse with her head down and her eyes closed, when she'd spent most of the days sleeping because she didn't know what else to do. She wanted to sleep now, in the middle of the day, and that scared her.

She didn't even bother to pick herself up off the lumpy bed when she heard footsteps, so when Arthur stopped in front of her cell, she just looked over at him, one leg pulled up near her chest, the other kicking slowly over the edge.]

Probably. [Probably not. There's no real heat in it.]

[He'd meant it as a joke anyway, trying to force himself to pretend like the flood wasn't affecting him as deeply as it was. She didn't seem to be fairing any better, and Arthur sighed as he unlocked the door to her cell, holding it open for her.

He's not going to try and make her talk right now because he doesn't much feel like it either.]

Come on. I'm sorry you were here at all.

[She doesn't jump up right away, and that scares her too. She doesn't like being in here - she doesn't have her dreams in here, she doesn't dream she's the night wolf, and she hates that. Still, she stays on the bed and stares at him for a long moment, uncertain.]

I don't-- [She pauses, because she's not really certain what she wants to say.] I don't think-- [she bits her lip, and lowers her eyes, staring at the floor in front of her. She realized, not all that long ago, that it must have been her fault.]

[Arthur steps into the cell when she doesn't really move to leave, and actually moves to sit down next to her.]

What's wrong?

[She doesn't move away at all, just looks up at him when he sits. But her head drops again, and she stares at her hands, twisting the hem of her shirt like she might tear it if she could.]

It's all my fault. [It comes out high and upset, with more feeling than she meant it to.] If I told Jaqen to kill Tywin Lannister, then Robb and my mother-- [her brother and her mother, and her throat closes a little thinking about them] They'd still be alive, wouldn't they?

[Even though he's relieved that she can say 'my mother' he doesn't remark on it. Files it away for later, maybe he's not quite sure what to do. It's ironic that her family lived while his died earlier during the flood.]

Those lives we lived during the flood... those people weren't us. Or real. There's no way to tell what really would have happened. And no point in dwelling in the past.

[She knows he's right, but it's hard not to. She nods, though her thoughts are still with another girl, in another life, with someone who'd been wearing dresses for months, who went to sleep with her mother running fingers through her hair. Her hair now was short, but still tangled, and she reached up almost self-consciously to try and yank some out. Her efforts just tear out bits of hair.]

Robb was a good king.

I don't doubt that he was.

[Not that Arthur really knows very much about her brother, just the bits and pieces that were in her file. He probably knows more about the man's death than his life.]

Tell me about him.

[That's hard. She has two warring instincts: to bite her tongue and take it back, to say she doesn't know, she has no family - and to tell him anything, everything about Robb. Everything she can remember.

Which, admittedly, isn't a lot. He had been close to Jon, and she had been close to Jon, but Robb was the one who did what he was told. He was the young lord. She stared at the floor ahead of her for a long moment, kicking her leg.]

He had red hair. [Like my mother.] And he was strong. He practiced the sword all the time. Once, he and Jon pushed snow from the top of a gate onto someone passing underneath, I don't remember who. They tried to scare me, when I was little. Robb told us he'd seen something in the crypt, and we went down with him, and Jon came out in a sheet and made the baby cry. I punched him good. I punched them both good.

[Her jaw locks then, and she finds herself leaning against Arthur, her head down to hide the way she's blinking.] And they cut off his head and sewed Grey Wind's on his shoulders.

[He wouldn't comment on the fact that she's fighting tears even if he could see it, but he doesn't try to look. Just puts an arm around her shoulders and holds her close.]

It's understandable to want revenge on the people who killed your brother and mother. But you can't let it control you. Like you can't wonder what could have happened in the past. That will keep you here forever.

It doesn't control me. [But it's a comforting thing to hear; it's like the kindly man telling her to control her face. So she doesn't object to the arm around her, just leans a little harder into his side.]

But it's what's right.

[Arthur doesn't say anything for a few moments because he's not denying that he wants revenge against Odin either. But he's content to wait for an opportunity to get it, it's only a matter of time before Odin messes up and he'll get his chance. He's not... learning how to kill people and collecting poison.]

Your brother deserves justice. I want to help you get that, not revenge.

There's no difference. [And she does believe that, because just taking the Lannisters out of power doesn't feel like justice. Justice would be cutting off their head in front of the Sept of Baelor, it would would be watching their allies turn on them and fill them with arrows. That's what she wants.]

[Arthur doesn't respond to that. She's not going to listen until she's ready, he knows that by now.]

Are you ready to leave the cell yet?

[She nods against his side, and a moment later, she straightens and swipes her hand under her nose.]

Nymeria's going to be angry with you. [She has probably been prowling around looking for her.]

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